


day twenty: no touching

by Hannah (hannahoftheinternet)



Series: HartmonFest 2019 [20]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Confinement, Established Relationship, Hartmon Fest 2019, Light Angst, M/M, Medical Jargon, POV Hartley Rathaway, POV Third Person, Present Tense, Separations, Virus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 22:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18082277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahoftheinternet/pseuds/Hannah
Summary: Cisco hasn't been answering his phone, and Hartley is starting to worry.





	day twenty: no touching

“Please pick up. Please, please pick up.” Hartley chants a prayer under his breath, crossing his fingers tightly. He crosses his toes for good measure, and that sends a pang through him, because Cisco is the one who taught him that.

Blessed day. A voice comes through the phone. But that’s not Cisco’s voice. It’s Caitlin. “S.T.A.R. Labs.”

“It’s Hartley,” he says. “Is Cisco there? Can I talk to him?”

“Of course,” Caitlin says. “I’m sorry, Hartley.”

“What?” More panic rises in him. “Why are you sorry?” But then he hears Cisco and can’t think about Caitlin’s cryptic words. “Cisco, thank God,” he breathes. “Why didn’t you answer your cell? I called you fourteen times, but it just went straight to voicemail. I thought something happened.”

“They didn’t tell you?”

The question sends a chill down Hartley’s spine.  _ Something happened. Something happened. Something happened. _ “Tell me what, Cisco?” Silence on the other end. “Tell me what?”

“They said they were going to tell our partners and next of kin,” says Cisco, and Hartley can hear the fury in his voice. “You said you were going to tell him!” This sentence is clearly not directed at him, but at someone else in the lab. “No. Fucking no. He is my boyfriend; he has a right to know.”

“Cisco, what the hell is happening?” Hartley asks desperately, his voice pitching upwards in his panic. He hears Cisco take a deep breath. “Are you okay?”

“Caitlin was doing an autopsy on a meta they found by the water.” Cisco sounds almost dispassionate, like he’s doing his best not to freak out. He’s not fooling anyone; Hartley can hear the nervous quaver of his voice. “When she cut it, this huge cloud of dust came out of the bones and got all over her, me, and Barry. The biohazard alarm went off, which called the guys from the CDC down. Which sucked, because we have a lot of stuff we don’t need the government to see.”

Hartley scrubs a hand through his hair as he takes a calming breath. His heart is beating so quickly, he’s surprised his rib cage isn’t cracking. “Are you okay?”

“Do you want the good news first or the bad news?” Cisco asks, and it sounds like he’s half-joking, half-not.

“Good news.”

“The good news is that it’s one-hundred percent curable.” Something in Hartley’s chest unknots. He feels like he can breathe again, for the first time in an hour. “There’s a vaccine, which I got. I’ll be fine soon.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“The lab is being shut down for containment until everyone is cured. We’re all under quarantine for three days, maybe four. According to Caitlin and the CDC, whatever we have is super contagious. If we come into contact with anyone else, we could start an epidemic.”

The curse slips past Hartley’s lips before he can stop it. “Shit.”

“Yeah. The dust, which is apparently fungus, didn’t make it down into the Pipeline, though, so our secret is safe for now.”

The whole world could have found out about Team Flash’s secret metahuman prison, and Hartley knows that he wouldn’t care. All that matters is that Cisco is alive. Cisco will be fine.

Cisco just has to spend four days in quarantine.

“Can I come see you?” he asks, hoping against hope that the answer is  _ yes. _

The answer is  _ yes, _ but the answer is also  _ you have to wait until tomorrow because of quarantine laws and scheduling _ .

Hartley doesn’t sleep that night.

***

The next day, at nine in the morning, Hartley gets a call from S.T.A.R. Labs. An unfamiliar voice tells him that he can visit Cisco between noon and five today, so at 11:45, he drives to the lab and waits for a woman in a hazmat suit to let him in.

Cisco, Caitlin, and Barry are holed up in the medical wing, which includes the morgue. Hartley can’t help but think that he would really not like to have an infectious disease and be stuck near ten dead bodies for four days.

The heavy glass door is sealed shut. Someone is definitely trying to stop something from getting out. The speaker system still works though, because the woman from the CDC presses the comm button and summons Cisco. Then she departs, leaving Hartley staring through the glass.

Cisco appears, a broad smile stretching across his face as he sees Hartley. He returns the gesture, but Hartley’s happiness is marred by anxiety. He reaches out and presses his palm against the glass, and after a moment of hesitation, Cisco does the same.

“How are you?” Hartley asks. It feels like that’s all he’s been asking recently.

Cisco shrugs. “I feel fine. Caitlin got the worst of the dust. The vaccine gave me a rash.”

“Unfortunate.” They share a laugh. Some of Hartley’s worry dissipates. Cisco is smiling, showing no discomfort or pain. In three days, he’ll be free to leave, and everything will go back to normal. “The apartment feels empty without you,” he says. “I can’t sleep.”

“I can’t sleep either.” A wrinkle forms between Cisco’s eyebrows. “I’m having nightmares again.”

There is nothing Hartley would like more than to pass through the glass and give Cisco the tightest hug he can. He would suffer that stupid virus to make sure his boyfriend sleeps soundly.

Reason says that it’s a ridiculous thought, but Hartley has been in love long enough to know that it is ridiculous sometimes. He knows that Cisco would do the same for him.

“Quarantine food sucks,” Cisco says, breaking the silence. “Cold pasta, oranges, and Jello. For every meal.”

“We’ll go to Maxim’s when you leave,” promises Hartley. “As much French food as you want.”

“Éclairs,” Cisco says dreamily. “Deal.”

Hartley leans his head against the glass. Cisco mirrors him, so that it is almost like they’re resting their foreheads together.

Three more days. Three more days and Cisco will be back.

**Author's Note:**

> This one was hard to tag for! I took most of the plotline from an episode of Bones (1x09). 
> 
> Comments are a writer's best friend!


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